


red roses and it is what it is

by squishy (Snowingiron)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Death, Depression, Friendship/Love, Insecure Louis, Louis' mum is mentioned - Freeform, M/M, Narry side pairing, Near Death Experiences, Non-Famous Louis, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Louis, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Self-Harming Louis, Suicidal Louis, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Touch-Starved, now I know this all sounds really bad and depressive and sad but I promise it gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 15:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12436098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowingiron/pseuds/squishy
Summary: Oh you know the stories: Boy meets death, boy almost dies and falls in love with death. It's weird that death's name is Liam but Louis just shrugs it off because he wants him and he wants to see him again, even if it takes his own life. After all, he has nothing left to lose.( Inspired by a post that went like this: “flirting with death” fucking WEAK catch me sucking deaths dick in a burger king dumpster at 3am)





	red roses and it is what it is

**Author's Note:**

> This story got a lot more depressive than I intended to. But I promise it has a happy ending! Like I could do anything else...
> 
> inspired by [this post](https://squishyharold.tumblr.com/post/165733074979/loser-boy-flirting-with-death-fucking-weak)

Liam meets Louis at 3AM in the back alley of a rundown Burger King, the remains of a cheeseburger still hanging from his mouth. He's drunk and muttering under his breath, cursing 'Valentine's Day' and his 'fucking friends'. He must be drunk, with his limbs lagging behind and the swaying of his body like he's wandering a ship. He's so beautifully alive and Liam runs his thumb across his bottom lip, eager to taste him. They all burn the brightest before they die.

The boy doesn't see the knife until it's already buried in his stomach, wrenching a confused gasp from his throat as he tips over. The thief pads down his trousers to steal his phone and his money, all of it while Louis stares up at the sky with wide eyes like there's something to see but there is not – just the stars and endless darkness. Liam can't help but smile when he halts in front of the dying young man, reaching out with one hand.

"Come with me, Louis," he says in a kind voice. He's Death and he can be hell, can be rough, he'll rip you out of life. But he can also be gentle and kind, a comfort only few know.

Louis doesn't seem to be in the mood for it because he drags himself to his knees, the pain in his stomach so apparent, so obvious. Still, he doesn't pay any attention to it, instead he glares at Liam with a stubborn scowl.

"What the fuck," he hisses. "What the fuck just- are you pulling me? Because I'm not complaining but I got standards."

His face is so pale from the blood soaking his clothes – does he even realise it? No, his eyes rake over Liam's body with his jaw slack, sucking in the air in huge gulps to make up for the dizziness that's taking over his brain. It's Liam's presence that sends people's bodies and minds into a frenzy, preparing them for what's coming. Louis is ready for the kiss and Liam is seldom so eager to take it from anyone, but he's fascinated by the bright blue eyes he's met with. They remind Liam of the sky that he so rarely sees since people tend to die at night.

"Or maybe not," Louis mutters to himself and falls forward, both hands making a grab for Liam's belt and tugging it open. "So fucking fit."

Liam is too confused to stop him, too in awe to push him away. He lets it happen instead and closes his eyes when Louis takes him into his mouth with a rattling breath, his body shutting down already. He should be dead, with his soul being swallowed and carried away. But he's not, he's still here instead and makes Liam's legs tremble with foreign sensations that have the heat curl in the pit of his stomach. He's never warm, always cold, what is this boy doing to him?

He's too weak to hold on to Liam, hunched over instead while he brushes the hair out of his eyes, getting blood all over his face. Liam's breath hitches at the sight, at the beauty of this dying boy who doesn't 'give a fuck', who asks to have his mouth 'fucked real good' because if he needs to go it should be on a peak.

He's a force, he's like the dark matter of the universe, punching holes in the laws of physics with a single swirl of his tongue. Liam can see it now, how there has been no acceptance in Louis' life, not from others and therefore not from him. He won't just accept Death either. He's the flood following after the low tide to drown you and Liam wants to be drowned by him too. He comes half in Louis' mouth and half on his face, holding on to his head with fingers buried in dark hair.

"Fuck," Louis whines, too numb to feel the pain or anything else. Liam likes to think it's a gift but Louis is just annoyed, shifting closer to press his face into Liam's thigh, hands clasping tightly around it. "Take me. Fucking take me."

Liam stares down at him, sweat gathered on his forehead like he's human, like he's _alive_ but he's not, _he's not_. It makes him flustered, like he did something he wasn't supposed to do, like he broke a rule (he doesn't know if he did.) He pries Louis' hands away from him and it doesn't take much since he's so strong and the human is so weak. He's pushing him down and Louis whimpers, complains, he doesn't stop talking. Words fall from his mouth in an endless stream, cursing Liam, cursing the world, cursing himself.

"I will go," Liam tells him while he tucks himself back in with a frown, looking down at this strange human being. "But we'll see each other again."

"Fucking typical," Louis croaks and curls in on himself with his hands pressed to his stomach. "Won't even tell me your name eh? It's fine. I'm used to one-night stands. 's fine."

Liam licks away the tingle on his lips, the urge to bow down and kiss him. Instead he brushes his knuckles over Louis' rough cheek and whispers, "my name is Liam."

*

Louis wakes up to the sound of a heart monitor and the smell of antiseptic gauze in his nose, making him gag before he can even open his eyes. There's a hand squeezing his tightly when he makes the first noise, a breath hitting his face like someone's leaning over him.

"Louis?" He knows that voice.

"Fuck. Zayn?" It _is_ Zayn. Zayn is kind of his best friend. The best friend he ever had, the best friend he ever _will_ have. He loves Harry and Niall but Zayn has been there from the ugly start to the uglier in-between and he's even here now, when Louis still feels like he's fucking dying.

But he's not dying, is he? His memory is hazy and he works hard to blink his eyes open, only to find a hint of tears on his best friend's face. Even though he's pumped full of drugs the sight makes his insides ache. He hates to see Zayn cry.

"I'm fine," he mumbles, closing his eyes again.

"You're not, Lou, you almost-"

"died, yeah... shit... I think I gave Death a blow job." He grins to himself like it's a fucking joke (it's probably the drugs, too.) 

"What?"

"He fucking loved it. He said his name was Liam."

The memories come rushing back to him and it makes totally sense to him in his muddled brain, all of it. He was fucking mugged, he was about to die, but Death didn't take him. He had used Louis' mouth like it was everything he ever wanted and the memory alone makes Louis dizzy with arousal. But he can do nothing about it, he is a fucking wreck. He wonders if it was just a dream, if it ever really happened. 

His brain says no but his sore lips are not so eager to agree.

*

"What's that?" Louis asks when Zayn drops a bag in front of him on the coffee table. Louis is wrapped in a blanket with his feet tucked underneath himself and a football match running in the background. Not that he's paying any attention. He squints suspiciously at Zayn. "Is that food?"

"You need to eat," Zayn insists.

"I'm not hungry."

"Doesn't matter, you need to eat."

"My body is fucked, Zayn." Louis burrows himself deeper into his blanket. He doesn't know what day it is. he doesn't even know the last day he had a shower. Thank god he doesn't have to go to work anytime soon.

"No shit," Zayn grunts and pulls out Louis' favourite meal from the chinese restaurant around the corner. It actually makes Louis' stomach growl and Zayn grins at him in victory. "Maybe that's exactly what you need right now. Your body needs to remember everything."

"Everything? How about a shag then?"

Zayn looks at him for a long time. "No," he says eventually.

Louis shrugs like he doesn't care.

*

Niall hangs around in the flat a few days later and Louis fucking loves him because he's everything light and sunny and Louis always hopes some of it will rub off on him if he gets close enough. They are cuddling on the sofa and Niall's fingers stroke his hair with such ease he wants to fall asleep right there. He hasn't slept much since he was released from the hospital but he doesn't know why, something just keeps him awake.

They are watching golf, or rather Niall is watching it while Louis drifts off every once in a while, only to get pulled back into reality with a small twitch of his body, like a kick he can't stop himself from happening.

"Hey, you alright?" Niall asks with a frown, hand resting on the back of his head now, staying there like a warm constant.

" 'm fine. Just don't want to miss anything," he lies. He actually hates golf, but he made a lot of sacrifices already to keep his friends close, even though it's stupid. But he wants to spend time with them and it's not like he's a joy to be around, not anymore at least. The last year has been awful but he won't talk about it.

So he tries to pay more attention from then on, commenting some of the things happening on the screen just to make Niall laugh because it is a beautiful laugh, utterly contagious and something he'd like to revel in more often. Louis is almost jealous that Harry gets to hear it every day. Harry walks in a couple of hours later with a ton of grocery bags to re-stock Louis' and Zayn's fridge. The guilt makes him almost vomit but he won't insult his friends by saying anything but 'thank you'. 

When Harry's all done he joins them on the sofa and folds himself under Niall's arm with a kiss to his jaw. Niall immediately lights up and removes his arm from around Louis to cup Harry's face and give him a proper kiss that has both of them forget about everything else. Including Louis. He just sighs and watches them being gross for a while before he starts making rude comments about 'decency' and 'respecting the (half)dead'.

But they don't even care. They're in love. Louis hates them a little.

*

Louis stands half naked in front of the mirror, finger poking at the stitches on his stomach until blood starts to seep through. He hisses at the pain but keeps doing it because it's better than feeling nothing. He uses one of his razor blades to reach between the threads and cut them through, breathing in sharply when the blood starts to flow and soaks through his sweatpants, making him feel ill. It's almost like being high but not in an ecstasy way, more in a weed way. It calms him down, numbs the sharp edges and gives Louis a sense of serenity that he has only felt once before.

"You shouldn't do that." A voice whispers behind him, prying the razor blade from his hand and Louis stares into the mirror. It's him. Liam. (Death...)

"I can do whatever the fuck I want, it's my body," Louis insists but his voice is shaking with effort.

"Is it?"

"The fuck do you mean?"

"You curse a lot."

"Fuck you."

He sees the hint of a smile on Liam's face as he steps closer behind Louis, dropping the razor blade into the sink before him. He doesn't pull away completely, his hand comes to rest on Louis' waist instead, making him realise that it's fucking real, everything that happened. He feels sick and excited, nauseous with pain and relief and then Liam's hand smooths over his wound, smudging the blood across his stomach before it reaches underneath the waistband to touch Louis. 

His eyes fall closed when cold fingers wrap around his dick, stroking him until he's fully hard. He has to hold on to the edge of the sink to keep himself upright and straightens his knees before they can give in. His head almost hangs between his shoulders, Liam's body pressed to his back with the ease of a shadow. 

It thrills him more than any drug, more than any bloke or bird he ever pulled, hips jerking into Liam's tight grip. The sensation mingles with the throbbing ache in his stomach but he keeps going, keeps bleeding, keeps mumbling about how good it feels, how much he loves it, how much he wants it.

"Kiss me," he sighs eventually, leaning back against Liam's chest to wrap one hand around his neck. "Please."

"You don't know what that means," Liam says calmly and he looks so confused, like he doesn't know how to figure Louis out. He almost looks... _innocent_ , and Louis wants him. So much. Because he feels wanted for the first time in his life.

"I do," Louis moans, squeezing his eyes shut when Liam stops moving his hand. "IdoIdoIdo, just keep going please, make me come, take me with you."

Liam takes a deep breath and it sounds like he's not used to it, like it's a human thing and not a death thing. He doesn't kiss Louis on the lips but he kisses him in other places, on his neck, on his shoulders, all while he jerks him off with small movements of his hand. Every bit of skin Liam touches starts to tingle before the end of his nerves become completely numb, dead, and Louis almost squeals in delight, writhing and squirming in Liam's hold. 

"So good, fuck."

"So beautiful," Liam mumbles in response and Louis wants to cry.

He only cries out though, coming in his pants while he completely holds on to Liam, to Death, begging him for a proper kiss. But Liam pulls away with a guilt ridden face and Louis wants to laugh. Death is a fucking idiot and just leaves him behind again.

But when Louis sinks to the floor in a puddle of blood he realises that this is the only time he'll see Liam, the only time they can be close: when he's dying. He laughs until he cries, feeling like he's going insane but at least now there's something to strive for.

When Zayn finds him like this thirty minutes later he can't even bring himself to apologise.

*

"Jesus Christ, Louis, get down!" 

Niall actually sounds concerned but Louis can't look back, he has to concentrate. With his wound finally all healed up his friends had decided to take him to a climbing gym so he can get some of his stamina back. He was totally up for it and everyone thought it was a great idea until Louis decided to climb the wall without any safety.

"It's not funny anymore, Lou!" Harry yells when Louis reaches for another brightly coloured edge. Everything's quite sweaty and he feels a rush of adrenaline when he realises he could actually die right here.

"I'm getting a staff member," he hears Zayn's panicked voice but Louis doesn't care, he's _so close_.

when he's almost at the top he finally misses a step and thinks _yup, this is it_ , but a second later he feels a cold hand wrap around his wrist. As soon as he looks up he spots the frowny face of Death above the edge, holding on to him, keeping him from dying. _Oh, the irony_.

"Hey babe, I missed you," Louis says with a bright grin.

Liam only gives him a mild smile. "So reckless," he chides and pulls Louis up, up, up, right into his arms where it's dark and smells of roses. Louis buries his face in Liam's shoulder and he holds Louis so tightly, he almost feels like he was missed, too.

*

A few days later he crosses the street despite the red light and feels Death barrel into him like a car, sending them both flying across the pavement like lovers would roll in the sheets. He ends up beneath Liam and spreads his legs before he even knows he's doing it.

"I like being a bottom, I don't mind."

"What." Liam stares down at him, licking his lips like he wants to eat Louis' soul.

"You can fuck me right here."

But Liam doesn't, instead he leaves Louis colder than before.

*

"How about FIFA, eh?" Zayn pokes Louis' thigh with his toe, waggling his eyebrow in a challenge. "I practised a lot."

"Which probably means you're still shit," Louis says with a grin and finds that it's genuine. "But I guess now I have to find out."

He hasn't picked up the controller in weeks and it feels a little strange at first but he easily slips back into the game like he never left. An hour later Zayn has lost every single match but he doesn't seem to be very upset about it. Louis turns to him with a frown. 

"Who the fuck did you practise with?"

Zayn shrugs. "Harry?"

Louis blinks at him owlishly and then throws his head back to bark out a laugh that leaves him wheezing. "Seriously? Harry is even worse at FIFA than you are! Zayn, that's terrible."

Zayn shrugs again, but this time he smiles almost fondly at Louis. "I guess I tried. But you know the rules, it means you have to pay for lunch." It was a stupid rule they established back then to see what which was stronger: ego or the need to safe money. So obviously the winner had to pay for food.

Louis gasps and points an accusing finger at Zayn. "What the fuck?! Did you lose on purpose so you don't have to buy your own food?"

"Maybe."

"No sense of pride, huh?" Louis bites at his lips to suppress a grin. "Fuck, now I'm too proud of you to be angry."

"Shut up and order some pizza for us," Zayn laughs and chucks his phone into Louis' lap.

"Yeah, yeah," Louis mumbles and it's the day he forgets about his plan to (literally) starve himself to death.

It's also the day he finds out that his scar prickles when he laughs.

*

Louis tightens the scarf around his neck by curling it around his hand a few more times, making it harder to breathe while he fingers himself on the bed, twisting and turning with pleasure but it's not enough to send him over the edge. He groans in frustration but keeps going, trying to force the orgasm out of himself by adding more fingers, stretching himself further. It's not working.

The mattress with its expensive memory foam suddenly dips beside him and Louis feels a body crawl over him, hands stroking up his legs, his hips, his chest, before they reach up to loosen the scarf.

"Liam," he whispers and pulls out of himself to wrap both arms and legs around him, to make him stay, to make him give in. "Liam, Liam, Liam."

"I don't understand," Liam whispers back as he grinds down against Louis, kissing him with his body but not with his lips. "I don't understand why you keep doing this."

Louis doesn't know how to answer, his mind is blank and so low on oxygen there's no room for anything else but Liam. No reason, no sanity, nothing. He pushes at Liam's trousers instead, trying to shove them down to his thighs.

"Please fuck me, I need you."

"You don't-"

"I do," he hisses. "Just fucking- oh god, I think I'm gonna die if you don't fuck me."

Hearing Liam laugh is weird, everything is weird but he still loves how Liam's skin turns red every time they're together. 

"You don't die so easily," Liam says softly and swats Louis' hands away to undress himself. Then there's skin against skin and thighs part under surprisingly eager hands. "You won't die."

Louis doesn't care in that moment, as long as he is touched by Liam, as long as they are together. He feels the pressure when Liam finally pushes into him, feels the relief and the need to wreck this fucking bed with him. But Liam goes painfully slow, torturing him with every roll of his hips, denying him the kiss he's trying to steal when he stretches his neck.

"Then fucking stop me," Louis growls into Liam's neck and this time when he tries to reach his lips Liam shifts to his knees with one hand on Louis' chest, a dark look in his eyes.

"No manners, no faith" he mumbles and lets his hand slide up further to curl around Louis' already bruised and sore neck. "I can't believe you make me want to find out what it's like to be alive."

He's rocking back into Louis with small but fast movements that have him curl his toes into the sheets as his body arches off the bed, meeting each thrust eagerly. Louis has never felt so close to someone before, has never felt so good while being fucked into his own sheets. No one had ever wanted him like this and Liam isn't even blinking, he's staring at Louis like he's in awe, like he's discovering something new for himself and Louis keens at the realisation that Liam will always come back to him. It's what finally makes him find his release. When he comes hard and spills hotly between them he remembers Liam's confusion about why he is doing this.

"I love you, fuck, I love you so much," Louis moans and clings to Liam like he's a lifeline even though he's not, he's Death and yet Louis' words make something rip behind his eyes and he topples over, almost falling on top of Louis when he comes as well. It's like every light in the neighbourhood is blown out, leaving them in comfortable darkness. Louis only thinks for a split second before he makes a decision, before he takes his chances and tries to kiss Liam when he's recovering from his high.

He almost makes it but Liam jerks away immediately, making an alarmed noise. All Louis manages is for his upper lip to lightly brush along Liam's bottom lip.

He blacks out and ends up in a coma for almost three days.

*

His friends are furious, especially Zayn. He yells at Louis and actually punches him in the shoulder, making Louis whine.

"Jesus, Zayn. I might need that arm again."

"I fucking hate you, why can't you try some less dangerous kinks, huh? I'm the one getting a heart attack next time, you fucking," he hits him again, with a pillow this time, " _idiot_."

"I'm sorry," he says sheepishly.

"You're not sorry at all."

Yeah, he's not.

*

"Who's Liam?" Zayn tries to ask casually over his cereal bowl but Louis can hear the urgency in his question.

"Why?" Louis looks away.

"You kept moaning his name when you jerked off in the shower."

Louis tries to cover up his blush by coughing into his cup. "What does it matter?"

Zayn's spoon stops mid air and he regards Louis with a deep frown. "You said it was the name of Death. When you... when you were in the hospital you said-"

"I was totally high. Liam was a guy I hooked up with a while ago."

"Oh," Zayn's voice is made of ice. "Right."

And that's that.

*

"Why is your name Liam?" Louis asks as he balances the tracks of the express train with his arms spread widely. Liam is holding one of his hands to keep him upright, smiling at him like he's a beautiful stray he picked up along the way.

"You gave me that name, don't you remember?" He says quietly.

"Huh?" Louis frowns and tries to concentrate so he stays on the trail.

Liam's voice is rough but silky and Louis wants it all over his skin again, telling him how good he is, how perfect. "I always look the way people want me to look like. I'm the faint memory of your childhood friend and what you hoped he would look like today. If you were to die, it's him you would want to come and get you."

Louis stops and turns to Liam with horror in his eyes. "That's... not true. I'd want my mum."

But Liam gently shakes his head, entwining his fingers with Louis'. "No, you want him because you think it's your fault that he died."

Louis' eyes start to burn and he quickly looks away, hearing the faint sound of a train closing in on them. "It was my football he was running after when the car hit him."

"Which makes it an accident."

"How can you say that?" He hisses.

"Because I was there." Liam leans over to breathe into his ear. "And it wasn't your fault."

Louis breaks into tears right there, squeezing his eyes shut as Liam pulls him into his arms, away from the tracks, away from the train passing them by only a few seconds later.

"I love you," Louis whimpers miserably, remembering how much he had loved the other Liam, too. "I'm sorry."

Liam doesn't answer.

*

A few days later, Louis sets his and Zayn's flat on fire. The flames thrash around him, heating his skin and eating away at the walls, all the while Liam fucks him over the kitchen table. Louis clamps his fingers over the edge to hold on, forehead pressed against the wooden surface and moaning loudly even though the smoke is making him cough a moment later. But he doesn't care as long as Liam's numbing lips and teeth keep biting at his neck, as long as his dick keeps pressing into him, as long as Liam keeps coming back to him. 

When he's done and spent he slips to the floor, completely boneless with a wicked grin on his face that Liam seems to want to kiss away when he cradles Louis' face and presses their foreheads together.

"You always come back to me, huh?" Louis gasps and tries to push in, tries for their lips to meet but Liam's grip is iron. "Stop saying no, just kiss me, just- fuck!"

"I'm gonna kiss you one day, don't worry about that."

"Now," Louis insists but Liam is already gone when the firemen burst through the door.

Louis fucking hates his life.

*

There's not much of their stuff left and Louis does feel guilty about Zayn losing most of his art supplies but Zayn doesn't complain, he just frowns at the floor when they're both waiting for Niall and Harry to open the door. 

"Hey." Louis elbows him lightly, voice still rough from the fume poisoning. "This time I'm sorry, yeah?"

"Yeah..." Zayn doesn't look at him. "Sure."

When Harry rips the door open with sparkling eyes they both blink at him.

"Helloooo, come inside! We cleared out my old room for you and left the mattress inside. You get all the space you need!"

Zayn forces his way past Harry with a grumbled "thanks" and throws his bag on the floor. Louis is a little more reluctant but mirrors Harry's stupid grin.

"It will be fun to have you around again," Harry muses. "But you didn't have to burn down the house just to have me back as a flatmate. You just had to ask."

Louis shoves at Harry's shoulder when he squeezes past him. "No way, I would never move back in with you. I'm already dreading to see Niall and you fucking all over the place."

"Please," Harry snorts. "We can be decent."

"You don't even know how to _spell_ 'decent'!" Louis has to laugh.

Harry rolls his eyes and finally closes the door behind them. "You're just jealous."

"I am," Louis admits but makes it sound like a lie. "So jelly."

Harry and Louis had been flatmates for a long time when Zayn had brought Niall over one day. It was like magic happening right in front of their eyes and when Niall and Harry had become _NiallandHarry_ after months of casual hook-ups and silent pining it only made sense for Louis to give up his room for Niall. They had basically switched so Louis moved in with Zayn instead and everything was great. It's still great, even though Zayn isn't talking to him at the moment.

They have to share the mattress of Harry's old bed and Louis watches him for a long time before he shuffles over, careful not to wake his best friend. He slips one arm around his waist and burrows himself into his back with his eyes closed. It's warm and cozy and the only mistake he made was thinking that Zayn was already asleep, because as soon as he stops wiggling around, Zayn's hand comes to rest on his arm, keeping him there.

Louis sighs. "I'm really sorry."

"I know," Zayn mutters and rubs his thumb into Louis' wrist. "But you're honestly the worst flatmate ever."

It hurts in Louis' throat when he swallows. "I understand if you don't want to live with me anymore."

"Nah," Zayn yawns. "No one makes scrambled eggs like you do."

"I knew you just want me for my cooking skills," Louis huffs.

"What else could I want from you?"

Yeah, what else.

*

Louis has to go back to work eventually and he doesn't mind taking the night shifts, he knows enough colleagues who haven't seen their children in weeks so he takes one for the team. It's not like he has anyone to go home to. The ridiculous thing about all of this is the fact that he's a nurse. He's a fucking nurse who envies the people being brought into the hospital to die and isn't that the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard? But he still gives his all to keep everyone else alive, checks the infusions, checks the heart monitors, he even fixes the hair of their long term coma patient.

"Not that anyone cares," he tells the woman and drapes her curls over her shoulder. "But at least everyone here agrees that you're a CILF. Coma patient I'd like to fuck, get it? No you don't and it's fucking rude of them to say that."

He sighs to himself and flops down on the chair beside her, rubbing his eyes because he's tired already. But he'll get used to this life soon enough again, it's just a matter of time until routine will catch up with him, until it hunts him down and smothers him. When he blinks his eyes open and tries to focus on his surroundings Liam is sitting on the other side of the woman's bed like he appeared out of thin air, watching Louis the way he always does. Like Louis is a mystery to be solved but he's not. He's easy, he's simple: He just wants to die.

"Hey," Louis croaks.

"Hey," Liam echoes.

"What are you doing here? I'm not about to die, am I?"

Liam shakes his head. "No, but someone's always dying in here."

"Huh..." He looks at the woman.

"Not her. I kissed her a long time go, she was very sweet."

Right. She's on life support and her family refuses to turn it off. There's no soul left inside of her, nothing that could wake her up, no cure, no true love's kiss (no one to trade places with her...) Louis clenches his jaw when the face in the bed gets replaced with another one, a memory he has been trying to push away.

"Was it you?" He meets Liam's eyes across the bed. "Did you kill my mother?"

Liam leans back in his chair and strokes his thumb over his lips the way he always does. "I'm not making the decisions, Louis. That's all you."

"Me?"

"People. Life. I wouldn't happen without you."

"But _you_ decided to let me live," he says sharply. "I'm here because of you."

Liam seems shell shocked, dark eyes growing in size like he only realised it now, like he has broken a rule without meaning to. He turns his head away and curls his hand around the armrest of his chair. "You forced me to choose life, Louis. I had to make the choice because you were too much of a coward to do it. You think your pain brings you closer to me but it doesn't, because I don't feel anything."

Louis knows the implication of those words. _I don't feel anything. I don't feel anything for you._

"Fuck you," Louis growls with angry tears in his eyes. "I hate you so much."

No emotion corrupts Liam's eyes when gives him a small nod. "You won't see me for a while."

And that's the day Death breaks up with Louis.

*

Louis feels horrible, like he's going through a withdrawal and no matter how much dangerous shit he's getting into, Liam doesn't come back. No matter how deep he cuts into the flesh of his thigh, Liam stays absent. Louis becomes a ghost, a zombie, and even when he and Zayn find a new flat to live in he doesn't even bother to buy anything besides a bed and clothes. Materialism suddenly seems very stupid and unnecessary to him, what is it worth in the long run? Nothing, really. 

Since there is no TV, no PlayStation and nothing else to do, he picks up song writing again. It's really just his form of a diary, to write about the things that happened without admitting that it's all about himself, even though everyone secretly knows that it is. But there are a lot of things Louis tells as a joke because it's the only way for him to cope. 

Luckily, no one ever calls him out on it. It just is what it is, like the words tattooed on his chest. He stares at the red roses on the table that someone left for Zayn and Louis tries to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth.

*

Louis doesn't see Liam when he slips into the seat next to him. He's leaning over a cocktail, his third or fourth already, humming to himself while his friends are having a laugh. Liam does it sometimes, sneaking into reality to see Louis without showing himself because it's a lie that he only can visit when someone is close to death. It's just an excuse and sometimes a reassurance for the living. They don't need to know that Death is a constant that never really leaves. 

These moments are hard for him, too, because he wants to touch Louis, wants to stroke his hair, wants to kiss him. But that is something he can never do, not even if Louis knew about his presence. Somehow he knows anyway, at least subconsciously. He's leaning into the cold spot to his right instead of the warmth on his left that is Zayn. 

Liam's whole body aches at the sight, the absolute certainty that Louis loves him makes him want to have a heart so he can lay it to this mortal boy's feet. He leans over to breathe him in, to remember the scent he's missing so much. He's not sure what made him fall for Louis or if what he feels can be called love. He has never felt love, only seen it. But he wants to do all the things that come along with it: spending time together, holding hands, _kissing_... Louis makes him want to find out what it's like to be kissed back and as much as everyone else fears Death, this is was scares _him_ the most. Louis scares him, makes him afraid of the world. Is that love?

"It's your turn, Louis," the boy with the bleached hair says. "Will you do a rock song? Please tell me it's a rock song."

"Fleetwood mac!" The one with the brown curls agrees loudly.

"Nah," Louis says and downs the rest of his drink. "I wrote a song the other day."

They all gape at him and even Liam frowns in surprise. 

"Seriously?" Zayn grins at him proudly (Zayn. Out of all of Louis' friends it's the only name Liam bothered to remember.)

Louis shrugs. "Nothing special but you'll see."

He makes his way through the crowded tables to get to the stage with the piano and a huge banner that says 'OPEN MIC NIGHT'. Louis shows off a grin that doesn't reach his eyes and then sits down behind the instrument, coughing into his fist once before he cracks his fingers and leans into the mic.

"My name is Louis and this song is called 'Red Roses'. I wrote it myself so I apologise in advance." 

The crowd chuckles and Louis calms down enough to start his song. The first note he hits on the piano has Liam shiver in his seat. Louis looks so focused as he tears a sad melody from the piano, the alcohol only dulling everything enough for him not to run away. Then he opens his mouth:

“ _I gave Death a blow job on the day I almost died,_  
_my brain was in a rapture but I took it in a stride._  
_I swear he came all over me, in delicious, crimson red_  
_I thought he would be gentle but my face it was a wreck._  
_I jumped the shark so long ago, it's time for me to bow,_  
_he's always there, so close to touch, but I don't know how._

_Does my heart keep beating? Who knows for sure,_  
_It's a lovesick rhythm and there is no cure..._

_Red roses and a moment of bliss_  
_Red roses and it is what it is_  
_There was a hint of forever in every breath he took,_  
_but a case of fucking never in his touch that left me hooked._  
_Red roses and I still crave his kiss_  
_Red roses and it is what it is_ "

There's a dead silence filling the room, not only caused by Liam, everyone else has grown so quiet, utterly captivated by that young man's unique voice and the words that splutter straight from his heart. But he doesn't meet anyone's eyes, he either keeps them fixed on his own hands dancing up and down the keys or closes them as soon as he lifts his head to sing. It's the nerves, it's his own lack of self-worth, his fear of being laughed at. Liam knows this boy by his nonexistent heart.

" _I gave Death a blow job on the day I barely lived,_  
_his hands were like a blessing and his cock was such a gift._  
_Red bloomed on his cheeks and I thought he was a god,_  
_the one that took my mother, the one I knew was flawed. But he's..._

Louis' voice cracks and makes him pull back, the melody not stopping but repeating the last few notes to give him another chance to finish the line.

" _But he's Death, Death, Death, who's feared by every man,_  
_so now I sing him love songs, in the hopes to fuck again._

_Does my heart keep beating? Who knows for sure,_  
_It's a lovesick rhythm and there is no cure..._

_Red roses and a moment of bliss_  
_Red roses and it is what it is_  
_There was a hint of forever in every breath he took_  
_but a case of fucking never in his touch that left me hooked._  
_Red roses and I still crave his kiss_  
_Red roses and it is what it is – oh, it is what it is..._ "

The music increases and quickens under Louis' clever fingers. Fingers that love to hold on to Liam when they sleep together, when they hold each other and Liam wants to touch them, him, wants to finally eat up his soul and carry him away from everything that leaves him hurting. He wonders if _that's_ what love is – wanting to make someone _stop_ hurting. Essentially it's what Liam does, isn't it? No, he just passes it on to those left behind. He knows it because when he tears his eyes away from Louis he can see the confused tears in his friends' eyes, like they didn't know about the war going on in Louis' chest. 

But Zayn knows and he doesn't even look at Louis, he stares at the floor with grinding teeth and a napkin bunched in his hand. He's trembling but not from sadness, it's anger. Not for Louis... it's all for Liam. The one who turned his best friend into this mess on stage, something that only looks like Louis but changed so much.

" _I saw Death again on the day we walked the sky,_  
_he said I make him want to breathe, but I just wanna die._  
_He told me I'm a coward, not strong enough to live_  
_but does he really know about the things that I would give?_  
_I don't need the fucking light at the end of the tunnel,_  
_I just want the dark and a quick and dirty fumble._ ”

Liam rises from his seat and in an instant he appears in front of the piano, letting the music engulf him. No matter how deeply the melody or the words cut, it's been a long time since someone wrote a song _for_ him, not just _about_ him. He folds his arms on top of the instrument with his chin propped up on them and watches Louis' face, the way it twists with every high note, the way his eyes widen when he opens them and spots Liam. But he recovers quickly from it, gaze hardening and his hands dragging another refrain from the keys as his breath prepares itself to wreck Liam completely.

" _Red roses and a moment of bliss_  
_Red roses and I still crave his kiss_

_Red roses and I hate him so much_  
_Red roses and it's never enough_

_It is what it is... oh it is what it is..._ "

Louis' hands slow down, as does the music and his voice is more of a whisper when he leans in closer to the mic and looks up at Liam through his messy fringe.

" _There's so many lies but one truth to stay:_  
_I gave Death a blow job on Valentine's Day..._ "

*

The room is utterly quiet and when Louis rises to his feet he finds himself shaking. The alcohol, Liam's piercing eyes, the silence of the room, it almost sends him into a panic attack. But then the people start to applaud and he is so confused that he forgets about his anxiety. They cheer for him and scream his name, scream for more and Louis feels sick. Of course they don't know the truth that lies behind it, of course they don't know Louis just bared his soul for them to dig their greedy fingers in. But that is just art, Zayn had once told him. It's built from your guts.

Zayn, who looks devastated when Louis reaches their table again. Harry, who is bawling his eyes out and launching himself at him with sobs that sound like questions. Niall, who waits behind him with the heel of his hand pressed to his eyes to stop the tears. One part of Louis understands that they are worried about him, but the other part that is numb still outweighs everything else. He's not ready yet to say the words he should've said months ago, a year ago. 

"I'm fine," he says instead and knows they don't believe him. "I'll just go and have a smoke, alright? Order me another drink so we can have fun when I get back."

Harry wipes the tears from his face, not happy with Louis' answer but technically he hasn't even asked a question. He doesn't meet Zayn's eyes when he grabs his pack of cigarettes makes a run for the exit. 

*

He's not smoking anymore by the time Liam joins him and leans against the wall to his left. They don't talk for a long time but when Louis reaches out to take Liam's hand he doesn't stop him. He lifts Liam's cold knuckles to the heated skin of his own face and sighs deeply at the familiarity. Louis has missed him so much.

"It's time, isn't it? It's the perfect moment."

"It would be," Liam agrees and Louis almost wants to groan in frustration.

"You still won't give me the kiss that you owe me."

"No..."

He quickly drops Liam's hand and moves away from him with an annoyed huff. "Fucking typical."

"I won't be your happy ending, Louis," he explains and Louis can't believe Death is so thick.

"You don't get it, do you?" he shakes his head and rubs the dirty sole of his shoe over his other shoe, making them even more dirty. He hates crips and white perfection, it never lasts anyway, so it's better to ruin them now before anyone else does by stepping onto his feet. "I don't want to go with you, I don't want a fucking paradise, you got it all wrong. I just don't.... I don't want to exist anymore. That's what death is all about, isn't it? That's what you are."

The look Liam gives him in return tells him enough, of course that's his true essence. Still, he indulges Louis in the calm fantasy that so many hope for: "So if you could see all your loved ones again, you wouldn't?"

Louis crosses his arms in front of his chest and raises his shoulders to keep the cold out. "No... I never wanted you to be my fresh start. I wanted you to be the end." Why is it so hard to understand? When you're a suicidal idiot it's not a _life_ after death you're seeking. It's just death. Silence, darkness, nothingness... no light at the end of the tunnel. It's what he fell in love with.

"I might love you" Liam whispers, suddenly close again, with a hand tracing Louis' jawline. It's the first time he said something like that and Louis shivers. "But why? Why do you think you love _me_?"

Louis tries to savour each touch since he doesn't know how long it will last, closing his eyes and pressing into it. "Because you were there... when I was mugged, when I was almost killed. I mean... isn't it always like that? When you're on your deathbed the only people who come to see you are the ones who love you."

Liam digs his fingers into Louis' skin, forcing him open his eyes again. He looks surprised but also a little annoyed. "You think I'm the only one who loves you because I was there when you almost died? You beautiful, stupid boy... Did you forget what happened after we met?"

For a moment Louis doesn't know what Liam is talking about or what he's implying. But then he feels the heat spread in his guts when he remembers the faint squeeze of a hand in his, the tears of someone who thought he was going to lose Louis. But that's just him and Zayn, they have always been there for each other. They are partners in crime, best friends. They buy the couple menu when they go to the movies because it's cheaper, they throw their popcorn at the lovey-dovey people in front of them because they love being jerks together. Of course he loves Zayn. But he also loves Niall and Harry...

"I might love you," Liam repeats with one finger brushing over Louis' cheek, "but I'll never be that for you and there will always be someone alive who loves you more than I do."

Louis doesn't want to hear it and clings to Liam instead, refusing to accept it as truth. "That's it then? You just leave? What am I supposed to do then, huh? If you won't let me die, then what the fuck am I supposed to do?" He shoves him away, suddenly too angry to handle his tender touch.

But Liam quickly catches himself, not even bothered by Louis' temper. "Just live a little longer, find out how that feels like, and when the time comes you can tell me about it."

"I already know what it's like and it fucking hurts," Louis breathes, ready to tear his own hair out.

Liam nods with a knowing smile ghosting over his lips. "Pain is a human feeling... you will never get _over_ it, only used to it. You will always feel guilt and you will always miss her. But you will feel other things, too, I'm sure of that."

New feelings, feelings that have already been there and perhaps even feelings that can evolve. Liam is right, there are so many possibilities that Louis hasn't even thought of yet because he was stuck dwelling on the things that were drowning him for the past year. And now, instead of numb he feels curious, an urgent need, like there's an unfinished business.

"God, I fucking hate you and your dramatic speeches," Louis complains.

Then he turns away and runs because if he doesn't do it now, he knows Liam will give in and finally kiss him. But in a matter of moments Death had moved down on his priority list. The one he needs to find now is Zayn.

*

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Zayn yells as soon as Louis rushes through the door. He's standing in the middle of the room with his phone in his hand like he's been pacing and making a hundred calls, his face all blotchy from crying. "I was looking for you on every fucking rooftop in London."

"Rooftop?" Louis frowns and kicks the door closed. "The fuck, why?"

"I thought you were.... I thought you were trying to kill yourself again."

 _Again_. So he knows that none of it were accidents. Fuck, Louis should've paid more attention to his best friend. He feels like he could've stopped some of the pain but now it's too late, it has already happened. He realises now that those feelings aren't something he can get rid of, he can only move on and let them become a memory instead of a dictator.

"I'm sorry," he says and crosses the room to drag Zayn into his arms, to hold on to him as tightly as possible.

Zayn makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat, even though instinct already makes him claw at the back of Louis' shirt, makes him try to rub the warmth back into Louis' body when he realises that he is freezing cold (he had left his jacket at the bar).

"Harry and Niall were out of their minds, too. We were so worried."

"I'm sorry," he mumbles again. "I will apologise to them, too."

Zayn pulls back far enough so he can look at Louis. He's so beautiful, Louis realises. No, it's not realisation, he has known it the moment he laid eyes on him for the first time when they met. But Zayn is a league of his own, his ex-girlfriend is a model and Louis is just... he's just Louis. There was no point to even think about him or indulge in the idea of being with him. 

"I don't think it's appropriate to demand an apology from you. Maybe I should've asked more."

"I wouldn't have told you."

"I know..." God, Zayn looks so broken and it seriously fucks with Louis' head and heart. 

"But you were worried about me?" Louis asks quietly, fingers still holding on to Zayn's sleeves.

"Of course I was."

"Because I'm your best friend or because you're in love with me?" Weeks ago he would've been too scared to be so forward, to ask so bluntly. But now it seems like nothing compared to being in love with Death.

Zayn only stares at Louis like his chest has been ripped open and his pumping heart is laid bare for everyone to see. But it's alright, it's just him and Louis here, no one else can see it.

"Because I'm in love with you," Zayn admits with a shrug, like it hasn't been a secret.

But Louis feels like he might faint on the spot because _what the fuck_. He needs to have a serious talk with the universe some time because making Death fall for him? Easy. But Zayn? That's bullshit. There's no way.

"I'm sorry, what?" Louis asks, just to be sure.

"Because I'm in love with you." Zayn almost laughs. "You just asked me, remember?"

"Yeah, sure, um... So yeah, that's great because I've probably loved you since forever."

"That's great," Zayn echoes and then pulls him into another hug.

Louis sinks right into it and buries his face in the soft skin of his neck, sucking in a shaking breath. To be in Zayn's arms is so familiar and so normal he's glad his heart doesn't skip a beat. He's glad there's no feeling of being high, no butterflies to fuck with his sensitive stomach. He's just at ease, at home and feels himself starting to cry into Zayn's shirt, crumbling in on himself but Zayn holds him tightly and doesn't let go. He feels so overwhelmed by this sudden clarity that he finally manages to say the words.

"Zayn? I think I need help..."

Zayn tightens his grip around him for a moment, pressing a firm kiss to his hair. When they pull apart Zayn is a bit teary-eyed as well but there's also a relieved smile on his face. "Okay. I'll help you with that, you won't be alone."

It seems like the right moment, the right cue to just dive in and kiss Zayn, to show him how much those words mean to him. Kissing Zayn is almost kissing like Liam, only it is better. There is no cold, only warmth, and he feels _so_ , _so_ loved.

**Author's Note:**

> *nervously chews on her banana* okay, so... once again I've tried to process a lot of my own trauma and fears I've been dealing with for so long by writing fanfic. I tried not to get too deep into it because it could've easily turned into something a lot messier and I don't think I'm ready for that. Anyway... I hope you liked it! Feedback of all kind is always appreciated since I'm not a native speaker and this thing hasn't been beta'd at all.
> 
> ❤


End file.
